Moving On
by devotedtodreams
Summary: Mokuba doesn't have much time anymore, and Joey decides to tell him a few things that he read in a book, in the hopes of comforting the two brothers... WARNING: character death. Sad.


This is a sad little oneshot I wrote in less than an hour. I honestly cried as I wrote this...

This is dedicated to my grandmother, who died two days ago. R.I.P.

The book that is mentioned is by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, and I hope I didn't violate any copyrights or anything. But her descriptions of death and what comes after it are so wonderful, I just couldn't resist...

* * *

"Seto, I saw Mama."

"Ssh, Mokie. You should rest and not speak," a broken voice whispered.

"But I saw her! She was beautiful… and smiling…"

The young teen stopped when the brunet who was sitting in a chair at his bedside started sobbing. Not loudly, and he covered his face with his hands, as if being ashamed to let his tears be seen.

"Seto…" the boy breathed and wanted to reach out, to touch the other's arm, but he lacked the strength to do so. But hearing those sobs made his heart feel even heavier than it already did.

Suddenly, the door to the room clicked open, and someone else entered.

"Hello, Mokuba, how are you?"

"I'm fine," the raven-haired teen answered quietly.

The blond now turned to Seto, who was shaking all over. He placed a hand upon his shoulder. At this touch, the other teen looked up, tears still flowing from his reddened eyes.

"Joey… he's hallucinating… he says he saw our mother…" he croaked.

"Hallucinating, you say?" Joey sat down on the bed's edge and smiled at Mokuba. "You saw your mother?"

The weak boy returned the smile. "Yes… she was bathed in light… welcoming me…"

"Mokie…" Seto shook his head a bit – this went beyond his comprehension, he couldn't believe what his brother was saying. Deep down within him, he knew that the youngster wouldn't be with him much longer. Things had happened so quickly: two months ago, his sibling had started to cough very often. At first, everyone had thought that it was a common cold and had treated it exactly like that. And for a short while, it had also gone away; only to return shortly thereafter, but stronger and more vicious than before. They had taken him to the hospital, and the doctors had diagnosed pneumonia. It would be terminal. They had given Mokuba a month to live, and that time was just about over. The boy's breathing was poor and laborious, and he was too weak to get up on his own; even just moving an arm was quite an effort. Seto refused to go to work anymore: too great was his fear that he would get a phone call that would inform him of his brother's death, and when that would happen – much as he still struggled against that thought – he wanted to be at his side. Anything else would be unbearable. And so Seto had spent the days with the kid, watching his health decrease even more and deeming this to be his fault because he had failed to see how serious the illness was before it turned out to be too late. He barely slept and would have given up food and drink entirely if it hadn't been for Joey. Only Mokuba knew how close they really were. The blond brought food to the room, and sometimes Mokuba mused about how Seto was acting as if he were just as sick, leaving the chair (let alone the room) only when he really had to. By now, he even slept in there – a mattress lay close to the wall, and it served its purpose plentifully for the pitiful few hours in which Seto managed to close his eyes and actually sleep…

"Seto, he's not hallucinating," Joey said softly.

"Of course he is; what else would it be?" the brunet retorted more harshly than he had intended to. He was just too grief-stricken to have full control over himself all the time.

Joey knew this, therefore he didn't reprimand him. "It's not a hallucination. It's just another step on the way of saying goodbye."

"Take that back!" Seto hissed, a spark of anger and desperation glinting in his blue eyes.

"Please don't fight!" Mokuba pleaded weakly.

Joey held up both his hands in an appeasing gesture. "Let's cool it for a moment. Breathe deeply…" He waited until he saw the other take a deep breath, then continued: "And now I'd like to tell you something, both of you: dying is not bad."

Mokuba didn't look appalled at all (curious, instead), but his brother sure as hell did. "What?!"

"You heard me. Listen, Seto: I've read a book by a thanatologist. It's really good. Mokuba, when you're gone, I will miss you very much too, but…" He silenced and swallowed. "…I know that you will be doing just fine."

"Why? What comes after… death?" Mokuba asked.

"Are you afraid of it?" Joey asked back.

"…Sort of, yeah."

Beside the bed, Seto merely nodded, though not as eagerly as it would have been appropriate to his feelings.

"You don't have to be. I'll tell you a bit of what I read in that book," Joey said, and it was no longer clear which of the Kaiba brothers he was addressing (at least, he didn't specify it), "It's kinda like moving into a nicer house. Or picture it like this: your soul is like a butterfly, and your body is a cocoon. Butterflies come out of cocoons, right? Therefore, when death occurs, the butterfly sheds its cocoon, spreads its wings and takes flight. It is free."

"A butterfly…" Mokuba murmured.

Seto was staring at Joey. New tears glistened in his eyes as he listened to this completely new description of death.

"Yes, a butterfly. When you die, your soul leaves your physical body. Think about that body as a temporary house instead of a cocoon, if you like. When you die, you leave that house, not needing it anymore. All negative things vanish: panic, worries and fear. You truly become one with yourself. You are surrounded with utmost peace – and a love that is so deep, so sincere, that it's beyond our comprehension. And amidst that love, you see them."

"…Them?" Mokuba asked hoarsely.

"Those who left the earth before you did. Some people call them guardian angels; others call them playmates. We all have them as children, but as we grow older, we forget them. But they're always here, waiting for us when we die. They guide us when our souls take flight. Understand, Mokuba? Your mother is a perfect example of that."

"…Angels?" To the slight surprise of both, Seto spoke up. "It can't be… I don't have any angels… they're for…" He bit his lip. "…good people."

Joey shook his head and took one of Seto's hands in his own. "That's not true. Each and every one of us is born as a good human being. There's a godly spark within each of us, and it knows that we really are immortal. We just overplay it as we go through life because we fear death. But when death is right at our door, the spark reawakens, and that's when we calm down as we begin to accept the fact that life is just about over. So of course you are a good person too, Seto, no matter what you do. I bet your mother will be waiting for you too… and your father and all the others you have loved throughout your life."

The CEO of Kaiba Corp. couldn't deny that he was absolutely fascinated with what he was hearing. It was like a story, a story to make something bad not seem so bad anymore. He glanced back at Mokuba, who looked as if he was having the most wonderful dream. In that moment, it all came back to him: his brother would die soon, and he wouldn't be able to follow right away. He had always known that of all things in the world, the separation from his sibling would be the only thing that could truly destroy him. Realizing this, he almost threw himself off the chair in despair; but he was caught by a pair of strong arms and felt Joey's warm breath on his ear, into which words of comfort were being whispered. A hand rubbed his back gently. Seto fought to get a grip again, and when he had calmed down a bit, he still remained exactly where he was as Joey continued his little lecture:

"When your soul leaves your physical body, it gets another body. An ethereal body. If you would have lost a leg, you'll have both legs again. If the body had been demolished in a car accident, for example, it would be whole again. It's a perfect body, one without any pain or anything. You will be able to breathe easily once again, Mokie. You will be able to run around and play again," Joey told the boy.

"That doesn't sound so bad…"

"That's what I thought too."

Seto sniffed. "But Mokie, why you? And why does it have to be so early? I don't understand how any kind of power would allow such cruelty to happen…"

"Everyone has a purpose, a reason why they were born. The main goal in life should be to fulfill that purpose," Joey replied, "You know what you could think of life as, Seto? Think about it as a test we need to pass. And when we've passed it, we graduate. Then we can go home. That's when we die."

"But… Mokie…?"

Suddenly, Seto sat upright again, pushing himself away from Joey. The sick boy had closed his eyes, and the expression on his face was one of utmost peace.

"Mokie, no, don't go! Not yet! Please, I beg you! Don't leave me…!" Seto pleaded, now completely sliding off the chair and dropping to his knees, grasping his brother's hands.

Without opening his eyes, the raven-haired boy murmured: "Seto… thank you… for being my brother…" Dimly, he was aware of another hand that was laid upon his forehead, where it tenderly brushed some bangs out of his face. "Joey…" Yes, he knew that hand. It touched him just as lovingly as his brother, yet he was easily able to tell them apart. "…Thank you for taking away… my fears… and doubts."

"Farewell, kid. We'll see each other again sometime," Joey whispered as a tear ran out of his eyes. Then another and another.

"Mokie… please…" Seto breathed.

"Big brother… goodbye, Seto. I love you," was the last thing Mokuba whispered before it was over. He breathed in one last time, but now he didn't exhale. His body shut down.

"Mokuba!"

Seto couldn't believe it. His little brother… was really dead? Gone? Never coming back again? The world must hate him so bad… He cried out in anguish, then bowed his head as his tears started to soak the bed sheet. A hand laid itself on the back of his neck as Joey slumped down as well. Blindly, Seto's hand found the fabric of the blond's shirt and clung to it, and that was how they stayed as they grieved together. Even if Joey's cited description of death had soothed their fears, it couldn't take away the pain that came from losing someone they both had loved dearly…

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

That night, it took Seto a very long time to fall asleep. But it hadn't been as restless as he had thought it would be, as he told Joey in the morning: he had seen Mokuba. His brother had appeared to him once more to answer the question the elder had been asking himself all the time since his sibling had died in front of his eyes: the question why it had already been time for him to go. And after that, he had slept peacefully for a few hours.

_"Seto… All I wished was for you to be happy. Although you always denied it, I knew that you would be capable of loving someone. I wanted to witness that happen. I made it my purpose to watch over you until that happened. And now that it has, God told me to come home. I'm with Mama and Papa again. They give you their regards. And don't worry: we'll be waiting for you when it's your time as well. I promise."_

"See? You have guardian angels too," Joey told him, "And now you'll never be alone again. Even now, Mokuba is with you."

Even through the grief and the tears that were returning, Seto felt a spark of happiness within him and nodded. "Yes…" He intensively thought of his brother as he whispered: "Mokie… I hope you're watching right now…"

Then he kissed Joey. And while they touched, he thought to himself: _'Mokie is my invisible guardian angel… and you, Joey, my puppy… you are the guardian angel that I can see…' _

* * *

Just felt like sharing this with you guys. Do what you want with it. In any case, it's a helpful way for me to deal with this...

Another little note: it'll probably take me a little while to update WAF - I probably won't be working on it very much until the funeral will have taken place... and then it depends on how I feel... so please be a bit patient.


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